Morningside Cuesta enter, pursued by a memory

She pointed, and Persia looked up at the mountain without unease. It was no more treacherous than the White Spine, where he had first learned to hunt. Her description sounded not dissimilar to their common place upon the spine.

"Alright," he said. This woman's sober attitude was starting to drag him down — not into a bad mood per se, but into equally sober maturity. It'd taken a minute, but now the damsel in distress!!! instincts that ran so strong in his bloodline were taking hold. If you met someone hungry, you fed them. That was just how things were.

"Call me Persia," he replied, and then he gestured toward the rise. "Lead the way, Widow."

And yikes, what a name. With cousins like Valiant and Brave, he assumed she was just named Widow from birth — he wondered if her parents weren't kinda shitty for dropping something like that on her shoulders. Hadn't they heard of self-fulfilling prophecies?

"I guess there aren't many packs around here?" he asked as they walked, fishing for more information. Why hadn't she joined one? Or sought them out for help? He thought he could smell others on her — where were they? Lying in wait to ambush him? Dutch had told him stories of cannibal wolves before....